Heat Wave
by Antigone.Rose
Summary: With the air conditioning broken, tensions rise and pressures mount at Pearson-Harden. Will Mike be able to survive?
1. Wednesday

_A/N: Look, I love slash as much as the next girl, but Rachel/Mike (who I have yet to come up with a catchy couple name for) need a little love too! So...here's my response to that. _

_Disclaimer: I'm a poor college student. If I owned _Suits_, I'm guessing that wouldn't be the case. _

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><p>It was hot. Paralegal Rachel Zane's legs stuck uncomfortably to the leather seat of her chair. She ceased her relentless typing for a moment to lift the heavy hair off the back of her neck in an attempt catch some cool air.<p>

"Is it hot in here or is it just you?" Mike Ross had pushed the glass door of her office open and was sticking his head in, a half-smile on his face.

She dropped her hair, embarrassed, and returned to her typing. "What, Mike?" She kept her voice curt. She liked the plucky associate, mostly, but she wasn't in the mood today. It was too hot.

He dropped into the chair on the other side of her desk. His tie was loose around his neck, the first button of his shirt undone. She pretended not to notice. "Seriously, though." He leaned back, putting his feet on the very edge of her desk. "I think they forgot to turn on the AC."

She shoved his feet off her desk without looking away from her screen. "Aren't you supposed to be working on that deposition for Harvey?" He'd followed her around Pearson-Harden for most of the day yesterday, griping about the document and about how he need her help.

"Finished it last night." He stood up from his seat and walked over to stand behind her chair. "No thanks to you."

"Which one of us is the associate?" She still wouldn't look over from her screen. It would be like letting him win. Which he did surprisingly frequently for how helpless he acted.

"Details." He tilted his head and looked at the document she was typing. "That should be a semicolon right there, not a comma." He pointed to the incorrectly placed punctuation.

"Which one of us is the paralegal?" Rachel demanded, but she changed the comma anyway.

"You know, Rachel, I prefer to think of us as one super being." He was leaning on the window, still watching her type as if it were interesting. Which she was sure it wasn't.

"Oh, really?" She couldn't help letting a tiny smile quirk her lips.

"Yeah, you know, you're the super organized, smart, prepared one and I'm…me." He paused, at a loss for words for a rare second. "Together, we'd be the best lawyer ever."

They were reaching dangerous ground here. "It really is hot." She backpedaled away from the topic of being a lawyer. She'd forgiven him for cheating on the LSATs, mostly, after what he'd done for her at the mock trial. But…she still preferred not to discuss her whole "not being a lawyer" issues. It was something that was difficult to do when you were talking to a lawyer who you worked with. At a law firm full of lawyers.

"Yeah, I wonder why…" He trailed off, his eyes on someone walking by. "Don't tell him I'm here!" He dropped to the floor and crawled under her desk amazingly fast. She was about to tell him to get the hell out from under her desk when Louis Litt pushed the door open.

"Have you seen Mike Ross?" He barged inside without an invitation. She was about to tell him that yes, she had seen him and he was currently hiding under her desk when she felt a hand squeeze her ankle. She was surprised and frustrated when she felt a faint blush rise up her cheeks. "Well?" Louis demanded when she didn't say anything.

"Uh, no." She struggled to keep her voice level. The hand on her ankle relaxed a little, the fingers trailing down to rest on the side of her impractically tall high-heel. "I haven't seen him all day."

"Well if you do see him, tell him I want to speak to him in my office." He turned to go, but Rachel stopped him with a word.

"Sorry, but do you know why it's so hot in here today?" She felt rather than saw Mike shake his head.

"Didn't you read Jessica's memo?" He looked at her as if he wasn't surprised that a lowly paralegal hadn't thought to read Jessica's memo. "The air conditioning's broken. They'll have someone in to fix it next Wednesday."

"As in a week from today?" She tried not to sound incredulous, but it was so _hot_. A week of _this_? Really?

"Yes, as in a week from today." He strode off from her office with his nose in the air, still shaking his head at her ignorance and inability to read memos. She went back to her typing; determinedly ignoring the associate huddled under her desk with one of his hands on her ankle.

"Is he gone?" He poked his head out from under her desk to look up at her.

"Yeah, he's gone." She slid as gracefully as she could out of her leather chair. Her thighs left the leather reluctantly, making a tape-like sound as they peeled off. "Now get out from under my desk, Mike."

"Sorry." He scooted out from under her desk and sat with his back against the glass window behind it. "He's after me to work on this pro-bono thing and normally I love those things, but if I take it then I'll be here over the weekend again."

"And, what, do you want to go out with Jenny or something?" She tried to keep the bitterness out of her voice when she said the other girl's name. He'd asked her out. She'd said no…that was it. "You're willing to put off a case for that?"

"No, it's my Grandma." He shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. "I haven't got to see her for the past month or so and I just…" He sighed. "Never mind."

"Is she sick?" Rachel settled herself back in her chair and turned it to face him.

"No more than usual." He shrugged. She wasn't used to seeing him this morose. He was usually the one to cheer her up. "I just…I really need her advice on a couple of things." He looked up at her. "But I guess those can wait, right?"

"Mike…" She tilted her head, feeling her sweaty hair fall over her shoulder. "No one is going to blame you for wanting to see your sick grandmother. Take the case…I'll cover for you over the weekend if I have to."

"You sure?" He straightened up. "You don't have to if you don't…"

"Look, the way I see it, I can either spend a weekend covering for you or a week with you under my desk. I know which one I'd prefer, Mike." He grinned at her and she felt her cheeks get hot as she blushed…or it could just be the lack of air conditioning.

"Thank you so much, Rachel." He sprang up from his hiding place behind her desk and gave her a quick, tight hug. "I'm going to go see Louis."

He hurried out of her office before she'd had a real chance to process what had just happened. A week of covering for him or a week of him under her desk…she honestly wasn't as sure as she'd appeared to be. She returned to her typing, purposefully adding a few semicolons in places where she knew semicolons should not go. She'd ask him to proofread it later.

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><p>Harvey Spektor had always hated heat. It reminded him of his childhood, a too small and too hot house that was home to far too many people. It reminded him of his high school, people crammed together like sardines, the heat of bodies pressed together. It reminded him of his first years as an associate, a too small apartment that didn't have air conditioning. These were all things he avoided being reminded of.<p>

So, when the heat in his office steadily started to climb, he was annoyed. And when Harvey Spektor was annoyed, something was wrong. And somebody should be responsible and fix it.

"Harvey!" Mike, his juvenile delinquent of an associate, excitedly hurried into his office. "Louis gave me a pro-bono, so…" He was waving a manila folder like it was a flag. "I'll be winning _that_."

"Kind of like you were going to win that mock trial?" Harvey knew it was mean and little selfish, but he was in a bad mood. And it was steadily getting hotter.

"I thought we were done with that." Mike rolled his eyes and Harvey wondered, not for the first time, if he'd been drunk when he hired this kid. "So, what do you know about…"

"Not right now, Mike." Harvey waved him down. "It's too hot for me to mentor you."

"And what's your excuse for all the other times you haven't been mentoring me?" Mike raised an eyebrow. Harvey fought a growing urge to push him out the window.

"Is this hell?" Harvey asked aloud. "Did I die and go to hell and not notice?"

"Harvey!" Jessica Pearson pushed open his door. "A word?"

Mike shrugged at him. "Maybe." He slipped past Jessica toward the door. "I'm going to go do…_stuff_."

"Mike!" Harvey called and the associate turned around, his face somewhere between hopeful and scared. "That stuff you're doing…it better be winning that case."

"Aye, aye Captain." Mike saluted him, walking a few steps backwards and almost running into another associate. Harvey turned away, shaking his head.

"I see you're taking the tough love approach." Jessica had settled herself behind his desk, tapping one of his pens on the edge. "How's it turning out?"

"It varies." Harvey sat across from her, wiping his sweaty forehead. "You really can't get anyone to fix the air out before Wednesday?"

She shrugged. "My hands are tied. But, I know how much you hate heat." She set the pen down, folding her fingers together. "I'll talk to maintenance, see if they can get some fans to your office."

"_Thank_ you." He let out a sigh of relief. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Your associate." Jessica said and Harvey felt his stomach clench. He liked Mike, the kid was talented and bright, but…if they found out about his dirty little secret…they were both screwed.

"What about him?" He kept his voice purposefully light.

"During the mock trial…" Her voice was musing and he didn't move, waiting for the next words. "He showed promise, Harvey. He was the only one with enough sense to counter-sue and that was with only a few minutes of prep."

"Well, he's a bright kid." Harvey offered, feeling awkward. He felt like a parent at a parent-teacher conference

"But, that gullibility, that naiveté that he has…" She shook her head. "You have to work on that, Harvey."

"I'm not his mother, Jessica." Harvey adjusted his suit, feeling hot and annoyed.

"No, you're his mentor." She looked at him, her eyes piercing. "And that's a responsibility I hope you're living up to."

"Most of the time I just feel like his babysitter." He admitted and she smiled.  
>"How do you think I felt with you?" Harvey rolled his eyes.<p>

"Jessica…" He began, but she stood up and walked towards the door, looking back over her shoulder.

"I expect you to be the sort of mentor I was to you, Harvey." She told him and then left.

He leaned back in his chair, sweltering in his suit and wondered if anyone would notice if he just left early for the day.

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><p>Mike Ross, the only associate at Pearson-Harden without a shiny Harvard diploma displayed somewhere in his cubical, was swinging his suit jacket over his shoulders as he prepared to head out. It was past ten and he wanted to catch a few hours of sleep before starting in on the research for Louis's pro-bono.<p>

He was reaching onto his desk to grab his wallet when his phone began to buzz. He looked down to the name "Jenny" lit up on screen and answered it, putting it up to his ear. "Hey, Jenny."

"Mike!" Her voice was muted and there was loud music in the background. "Hey!"

"Where are you?" He searched his desk for the keys to his bike lock. "I can barely hear you."

"A bar." Her voice wobbled in and out of hearing. "I was wondering if you wanted to meet for drinks…unless," There was a pause where her voice drifted out of his hearing. "Sorry," She returned, panting slightly. "Are you still at work?"

"Yeah, yeah I am." He admitted, not really wanting too. "I've got this new case and…"

"No drinks tonight, then?" She sounded disappointed, but not heartbroken. Mike breathed a sigh of relief. He really wasn't sure what exactly was going on between them yet and he honestly couldn't afford a hangover in the morning.

"Sorry." He slipped his messenger bag over his shoulder and pushed the power button on his computer. "Maybe later this week, okay?"

"Okay." Her voice was faint, slipping back into the rhythm of the bar. "I'll call you?"

"You do that." He was walking down the hall. "Have fun tonight."

She laughed. It was a pretty, excited sound. "Bye, Mike."

"Bye." He hung up and slipped the phone back in his pocket. "Heading out?" He was walking past Rachel's office. She was bent over her desk, picking up a stack of papers and unsuccessfully trying to keep her hair from falling in her face.

"Yeah." She looked up from her papers. "It's too hot here."

"Here, let me." He grabbed the stack of papers from her arms. She nodded her thanks and grabbed her bag from the floor. "So, what are all of these for?" He asked, looking down at the ream of papers in his arms.

She sighed. "Some of the partners are being nasty." She held the door open for him and followed him towards the elevator. "Making me do all their research and stuff on a moment's notice."

"Harvey?" Mike asked, looking over at Rachel. There were dark circles under her hazel eyes.

"No." She ran a hand through her hair. "Louis and a couple others." The door dinged and they both got inside. Mike tried to think of something else to say, but…the elevator was small and hot and they were almost touching. He kept thinking about how he'd asked her out and how she'd said no. They rode down to the first floor in silence.

"I can get them from here." She said quietly, extending her arms from the stack of paper.

"Are you sure?" He looked down at her. Her eyes were tired. "I can get you a cab…"

She gave him one of her sort-of-patronizing smiles and took the papers. "I got along fine before I met you, Mike." She started to walk towards the door, her figure a perfect hourglass in her tight button-down and pencil skirt.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Zane." He waved her off as she walked away from him and through the doors. He followed a moment later out into the blessedly cool night air. He unlocked his bike and began the ride towards home.

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><p><em>AN: So...that's chapter number one. The plan is to have six or seven more, but that might change. Okay...review and all that. And if you come up with a clever or catchy Rachel/Mike name, let me know! :)_


	2. Thursday

_A/N: Hello once again. :) The response to this story got me real excited, so...here you go. Oh, and thanks to everybody who reviewed and all that. I'm terrible at responding to those sort of things, but...thank you!_

_Disclaimer: Nope. _

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><p>Rachel got to work just before nine. She was balancing a coffee and her bag as she walked through the doors of Pearson-Harden. She took the elevator up alone, the air getting steadily warmer as it rose. She let out a sigh. She'd done her best to dress for the heat, but there wasn't much one could do to keep cool in business attire. The elevator let out a ding as it reached her floor and she got out, heading over to her office.<p>

"Rachel!" Louis Litt had spotted her and was making a beeline over to her. "Did you get those documents I wanted?"

"They'll be on your desk in about five minutes." She hitched her bag up more securely on her shoulder. "I've just got to go put a few things in my office."

"Sure, it's not like my time is important or anything." He replied snidely and she ignored him. She'd been at the firm long enough to know that Lewis was going to be unpleasant to her no matter what she did. He watched her through the glass walls as she put her coffee on her desk and checked her messages. There was one from her mother reminding her that she'd promised to meet her and her father for dinner later that week. She let out a sigh and extracted the documents that Lewis had wanted out of her bag.

"Here." She handed him the sheets of paper ungraciously. He walked away without a word and she rolled her eyes at him when she was sure he wasn't looking. She retreated behind the glass walls of her office and picked her phone up, listening to her mother's message a second time. With a reluctant expression, she dialed the familiar number and collapsed into her chair, waiting for her mother to pick up.

As always, she picked up on the third ring. Both of Rachel's parents liked order and precision, something that she'd inherited. "Hello?"

"Hi, Mom." Rachel was playing with a pen idly.

"Rachel, darling!" Her mother's voice was delighted. "Sweetheart! I haven't heard from you in ages."

"I've been busy." Rachel tried not to feel guilty. She _had_ been busy. "Work and things, you know."

"Any special boyfriends, lately?" It was a consistent question. Every time her mother called, she expected Rachel to tell her that yes, she had met the man of her dreams and that he would be proposing to her soon.

"No, mom." Rachel tried not to sound exasperated. She turned to look over the office. Mike Ross had just walked in, looking harried and anxious as usual. "No one special."

"Well that's a shame, dear." Her mother tried not to sound disappointed. "You haven't dated anyone seriously in months. Not since that Kevin boy."

"_Mom_." She hissed, a blush rising up her cheeks. "We only went on a few dates…it wasn't anything _special_."

"But, sweetheart, he was a _lawyer_…" Her mother trailed off as if the end of that statement was obvious. Really, it was.

"I work at a law firm, Mom." Rachel watched Mike as he avoided a crowd of other associates and headed towards Harvey's office. "I'm bound to meet a few of them."

"Rachel…" She wasn't really listening anymore. The heat was starting to get to her. The heat and the fact that Mike was passing right by her office. He waved to her through the glass. She waved back.

"I should go." Rachel ran a hand through he hair. "I've got a lot of work to do."

"Okay, dear." Her mother sounded slightly sad. "Are we still on for dinner on Friday?"

"Of course, Mom." Rachel smiled into the phone. She really did love her parents, despite their flaws. "Say hi to Dad for me."

"Bye, sweetie." Rachel hung up the phone and opened up her computer. She still research to do for a few of the partners. It was going to be a long day.

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><p>"Harvey!" Mike peered around the door and into Harvey's office. There was a loud, rushing sound coming from inside. He looked over at his sometimes-mentor's desk. No less than six large fans surrounded the man seated behind it. "Don't like the heat?" He raised his voice over the combined din of the fans.<p>

"There's a reason I chose New York over California." Harvey didn't look up from his computer. "And I need you to proofread this," He held up a thick contract. "Before tomorrow."

"But, I've got Louis's pro-bono…" Mike protested faintly, but took the stack of papers anyway.

Harvey looked up. "Who do you work for, Louis or me?"

"Is that a trick question?" Mike raised an eyebrow.

"Just read the contract." Harvey's voice was short. Sure, he wasn't usually the sunniest person at Pearson-Harden, but Mike had never seen him so aggravated before.

"Okay." He decided not to push it. "I'll go and…" He was already walking backwards across the office. "Yeah. I'll just talk to you…yeah." He continued walking backwards out the door. A few steps from the door he turned and…

"Mike!" His face was inches from Rachel's.

"Ah!" Mike got a very detailed look at her hazel eyes and freckles. Her hair was pulled up into a ponytail today, just like it had been the day when she was his wife and they'd gone apartment hunting. "Sorry!"

She shook her head and took a step back. As she moved, a wave of her perfume washed over him, making him lightheaded. "It's fine." She shook her head again and her ponytail bobbed. "Is Harvey in there?" She peered around him to look into Harvey's office. "I need to talk to him."

"Ahh…" Mike turned to glance behind him. "I wouldn't right now…he's in a mood."

"Oh yeah?" Rachel tilted her head. "What sort of 'mood?'" She put air quotes around it.

"A bad one." He sighed and started to walk away. She followed him. He tried not to let the surprise show on his face…usually work came first and he came, like, fifteenth.

"D'you know why?" She was walking next to him, shuffling the papers in her hands.

"I think it's the broken AC." He glanced over at her. Her hair was curling at the bottom where it hit the neck of her shirt. "He's got, like, a dozen fans going in his office."

"A dozen?" Rachel looked over at him, incredulous. "Really?"

"Well, maybe more like six." He shrugged his shoulders. The fabric of his suit felt hot and oppressive on his shoulders. "Exactly six, actually." There was a pause where Rachel looked simultaneously annoyed and amused. "Gah, it's so _hot_."

"Seriously." She agreed. "So…do _you_ have lunch plans?"

Again, he tried not to look surprised. _He_ pestered _her_ to get lunch, not the other way around. "No…I, no I don't." He managed to get out. "Did you want to…go out somewhere?"

She shrugged. "It's hot." She gave him her usual sort-of-patronizing smile. "I thought we could go somewhere less hot."

"Well, if you're there, it's not all that likely." He grinned at her and she hit him playfully on the shoulder.

"Shut up." They were reaching her office. They stopped by the door. "I'm going to put these down and grab a few things." She pushed the door open. "I'll meet you in the lobby in ten minutes, okay?"

"Yeah, okay." Mike headed off towards his cubical, unable to keep a smile off his face.

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><p>Harvey watched as Mike ran into the pretty paralegal that he'd thrown the mock trial for and then followed her, puppy dog-like, away from his office. He shook his head, not sure if he should be irritated or not. He'd had his share of office romances or, more often in his case, office sleep-with-girls-and-the-don't-call-them-backs.<p>

The only notable exception to his love-em and leave-em style was Jessica Pearson. The first few years that they'd worked together, when she'd been his mentor, he hadn't tried to make his attraction to her a secret. Nothing had ever amounted of his constant flirting and suggestions, so, eventually, he'd been forced to cease his age-inappropriate pursuit.

But, even now, he sometimes thought that he saw a glint of affection in her eyes when she looked at him. He understood her reticence to become involved with him. After his meteoric rise to senior partner, sleeping with the boss would probably look bad. Not only that, but she was also nine years older than him.

He didn't really mind the age gap, he had never gotten along with people his own age anyway, but he knew that she must. Still, he sometimes tried to make her smile back at him just a little too widely, to make a congratulatory hug last just a moment too long. Sometimes it worked and other times it didn't, but nothing ever amounted from it in the long run.

He somehow knew that, if they ever were to work, that their story would be a long one. So, a long time ago, he had abandoned his usual purist and kill tactics and had decided that, with Jessica Pearson, he'd play the long game. In the meantime, however, he pursed girl after girl after girl and hoped that, one day, she might come to her senses and be with him. But, for now, she was his friend and that was fine.

He watched Mike and the pretty paralegal and wondered if their story would be a long one or a short one. For Mike's sake, he hoped it was shorter rather than longer. Harvey could wait, but he was not by nature a patient man. Waiting for Jessica got harder day by day and, try as he might, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she would have given in years ago.

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><p>"So…" Rachel looked up from her salad and over at Mike. "How's the case going?"<p>

Mike shrugged and picked at his sandwich. "I dunno." He looked up at her. "It's just…being a lawyer is a lot of work, sometimes."

She laughed. "What, did you not realize that going into law school?" She took a bite of her salad and looked around the blessedly air-conditioned restaurant. It was filled with people like them, dressed in business attire, getting a bite to eat before returning to work.

He shook his head and smiled and the melancholy that was dripping from him vanished as quickly as it had appeared. "I could have been a doctor, you know."

"Oh, really?" She tried to picture Mike in a white doctor's coat. "Why aren't you, then?" He'd be good at it, she was sure. He was good at _everything_.

"Needles." He shuddered and she bit back a smile. "They freak me out."

"You're afraid of needles?" She took a sip from her water. "Really?"

"Yes, really." He continued to attack his sandwich. "Any sane person would be." There was a pause. "So, what are you afraid of?"

"Cats." She answered without even thinking.

"Cats?" He repeated, his face caught between bemusement and delight. "Let me get this straight…you're afraid of _cats_?"

She blushed. Generally, she didn't talk about her cat-phobia until at least the third date. Not that _this_ was a date, or anything. "They don't blink often enough." She explained, fighting valiantly to ignore the smile playing around his lips. "I would spend summers at my aunt's house and she had at least thirty cats. They'd stare at me all the time…and they didn't blink often enough." She took an embarrassed sip of her water. "It was _creepy_."

He shook his head and then looked at her. "When I was a kid, I was terrified of stickers." He offered out of nowhere.

"What?" She tilted her head. Stickers? _Really_?

"I hated stickers until I was, like, ten years old." He grinned at her, like he was giving her some great present by telling her this. Admittedly, he was. "When anyone tried to give me one, like at a doctor's office or something, I would literally run the other way."

She couldn't help herself; she let out a loud laugh and the people at the surrounding tables turned to look at her. "Are you serious?" She demanded as soon as she had regained control.

"Completely." He took a large bite of his sandwich.

"You could never have been a doctor." She pointed out. "How would you deal with sticker-related injuries?"

He swallowed and leaned closer to her across the table. "That's the point, I guess." He grinned at her and she felt herself smiling back almost against her will. He had that effect on people. "I wouldn't have."

She was leaning towards him across the table and there was maybe a foot between then when…he slumped back in his seat. He was still smiling, but the moment that they had just had was gone. She leaned back too, the blush back in her cheeks. "We should get back soon." She said after a moment, making a show of checking the time on her phone. "Work and all that."

"Yeah." Mike looked a little confused. "Yeah, you're right." He went over to the register to pay the bill. She grabbed her bag and followed him, still confused and a little disappointed at what hadn't occurred.

"I'll get it." She pulled her wallet out of her bag, but her waved her down.

"Don't worry about it." He put his hand on hers and directed it back into the bag. Her hand tingled a little where his touched it. "I've got it."

"Mike…" She tried her best to look stern and threatening.

"Rachel…" He rolled his eyes and handed his card to the girl at the front. "You can just pay next time, okay?"

She bit back a sigh and shook her head. "Okay, Mike."

He smiled at her as they exited the restaurant and headed back to Pearson-Harden. "Never argue with a lawyer, Rach."

She tried to ignore the way that her smile made her feel warm…and warmer as they walked back into Pearson-Harden. "I'll keep that in mind." Was all she said as they got into the elevator. His arm brushed hers as he ushered her in and she tried very hard to ignore the tingling sensation it caused. They stood in silence as they rode up, side-by-side, neither one touching the other.

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><p><em>AN: Yup. Chapter three should be up later this week. Review! _


	3. Friday

_A/N: Hey! Sorry that this is late, but I just moved into my dorm and the WiFi here really, really sucks. Anyhow...enjoy. :)_

_Disclaimer: Suits isn't mine. If it was, I'd probably have better WiFi. _

It was past ten. Mike Ross leaned back in his chair and blinked a few times, trying to make the computer screen come into better focus. He was one of the last at Pearson-Harden that night. It was a Friday, after all. He'd seen Rachel leaving hours ago, giving him a wave and a half-smile as she'd walked past his cubical.

He got up from his desk, deciding that he had done all he could for the night. He slipped back into his suit jacket and started over towards the elevator. He looked over at Harvey's office. The lights were off, so his boss had probably left for the night. Running a hand through his hair, he got into the elevator. It was frustrating to spend a whole day researching like this and to get virtually nowhere. He pulled his phone out from his pocket, deciding carelessly that he didn't want to think about Pearson-Harden any more than day.

He dialed the number and she picked up on the fourth ring. "Hello?"

"Hey, Jenny." He smiled into the phone as the elevator got closer to the ground. "It's Mike."

"Hey there." Her voice was warm and inviting. "Are you still at work?"

"Just leaving." The elevator dinged as it hit the lobby. "I was wondering…did you want to go out for drinks?"

"Yeah, okay." She replied instantly. "D'you want me to pick you up?" She had a car and knew he didn't. He bit his lip in frustration. It was something he'd have to remedy soon.

"No, no." He waved to the night guard as he left the lobby. "I'll take my bike."

"Are you sure?" She pressed and he fought the faintest stirrings of annoyance. She was being pushy. "I really want to drive you, Mike."

"Come on, Jenny." He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he undid his bike lock. "I'll meet you there."

"Okay." She sounded a little put out. But she gave him directions to a bar and said she'd meet him there in about half an hour.

"Sounds good." He told her. "Bye."

"Bye." Her voice faded and he slipped his phone back into his pocket. He swung a leg over his bike and started towards the bar that Jenny had directed him too. He knew the place. It was a little loud and showy for his taste, but he'd been to bars that were plenty worse.

He wondered about what was going on between him and Jenny as he wove through the usual crush of people that lined the New York streets. They were dating, or that was the best estimate he could come up with. Still, whenever he was with her, whenever he so much as talked to her, he felt terribly guilty. Ever since they'd met, she'd been Trevor's girl, strictly off-limits. But now, Trevor was gone and he was free to date her as he pleased.

When they'd first met, he'd been struck by her. By her easy prettiness, by her kindness. She was the sort of girl that he had always hoped he'd be lucky enough to end up with. But now, he mused as he pedaled between a bus and a gaggle of girls heading into a club, he wasn't the guy who settled for what he was lucky to get. If anything, Harvey had impressed his need to win on Mike. Mike had to wonder if he really did like Jenny _now_ or if he was still in the mentality of the Mike who was poor and smoked pot and never thought he was worthy of anyone's affection.

And even if he did like her, was he just a rebound? She and Trevor had been together for something like two years. Even as badly as that relationship had ended, there still had to be some questions in her mind, some what-ifs. And why was she dating him, the closest thing to Trevor that she could possibly find? It made his head hurt, thinking about it.

He pulled up to the bar early, the crush of music already making his head pound. He slipped inside, maneuvering his way around an amorphous mass of people dancing in the middle of the floor. He groaned inwardly. He hated dancing.

He made a beeline for bar and saw a familiar shape, not Jenny, huddled halfway down. She had curly dark hair and a perfect hourglass figure. "Rachel!" He sat down beside her. She was dressed in a tight black dress and had on very red lipstick. "Hi!"

She turned to face him and he was shocked to see that she had tears in her hazel eyes. She tilted her head to side and a few of her curls spilled over her face. "Hi, Mike." She said in a voice that was almost resigned.

* * *

><p>Dinner had been awful. Rachel Zane and her parents usually got along fine and tonight had been no exception. Fine was the exact description of their evening together. But, as they piled her with question after question about the LSATs and law school and her lack of a romantic and social life, she had started to feel buried. So, quite a few glasses of red wine later, she'd started crying in the middle of the very fancy restaurant that they'd chose to meet her in.<p>

Both of her parents had been mortified. They'd hurried her out with many apologies to the waiter. Rachel struggled to control her tears as they'd pushed her into a taxi. She'd instructed her taxi driver to drive to the closest place that had alcohol. He'd dropped her at a bar a block away. It was way to showgirl for her taste, but she was too upset to be picky.

She had been sitting at the bar alone, determined to drown her sorrows in vodka, when Mike Ross had appeared. And, of course, it had to be him. The one boy that she was friends with at work had to see her sitting at a bar alone, crying.

"Are you okay, Rachel?" He put a hand on her back and she looked over at him. A warm sort of tingling spread out from the place where his hand was resting and she was able to force a smile at him.

"Fine." She shook her head, trying to clear it. His face was warm and familiar and comforting in her red wine-induced haze. "I'm fine."

"Why are you crying, then?" The question was soft, gentle, not prodding. He wasn't a lawyer right now. He was just Mike, her friend. He reached out hand and brushed one of the tears off her cheek. His fingers were warm and heavy on her face and she shuddered from the cold that replaced it when he retracted them.

"I…" Her voice was quite, a little unclear. Her hands were shaking. "I don't know." Her eyes locked with his. "I don't know anything, anymore." The part of her that was still sober-ish shouted at the rest of her to stop talking and go straight home. She ignored it. He was so close…she could smell him. Warmth and laundry soap. It was familiar and strange all at once.

He leaned in closer to her. "Rachel, I…"

"Mike!" A voice broke through their little bubble and the moment was once again gone. Mike dropped his hand abruptly and Rachel felt cold and lonely. A pretty blonde girl dressed in a bright orange dress flounced towards them. "Hi!" She ignored Rachel and kissed Mike on the cheek, sitting down on his other side.

"Hi, uh, Jenny." Mike ran a hand through his hand. "This is Rachel." He pointed to her. "She's a friend of mine from work."

"Oh." Jenny looked put out. "I met you during the mock trial, didn't I?"

Rachel attempted a smile. "Yeah." She flagged down the bartender. "Can I get a shot over here?"

"We'll all have one." Mike flashed a smile and a twenty-dollar bill at the man behind the bar. The man handed them all shots. Jenny downed hers in one and pulled Mike away from the bar.

"Come on…" She ignored his protests and pushed him towards the dance floor. "I love this song!"

Rachel watched them as they danced steadily closer. Mike was awkward, all elbows and uncomfortable glances. She was delighted, finally there was something that he wasn't _perfect_ at. Jenny slid around him like a snake, sinuous and deadly. Rachel glared at her.

"Want another drink, honey?" The bartender leaned across the counter. Usually, when men with particularly bad hygiene offered Rachel drinks, she refused. But, tonight was not usual for her, not in the slightest.

"Yeah." She didn't take her eyes off the blonde flouncing around the dance floor. "Yeah I do."

* * *

><p>Jenny wasn't sure what job she wanted to be doing in a year, wasn't sure what she wanted for lunch tomorrow and didn't have any semblance of a five year plan. But now, right now, she was exactly sure what she wanted. And that was Mike Ross.<p>

She had loved Trevor. She might still love Trevor, she wasn't sure, but right now that didn't seem to matter. She had always liked Mike. He was nice to her even when Trevor wasn't. He listened to her when Trevor wouldn't. She had always wondered…how would her life be different if she were to be with Mike. Now, she got to figure that out.

She danced closer to him and he blushed. she wanted to laugh at his modesty…it wasn't like he hadn't touched her before. But his gaze kept idly playing away from her, moving towards the figure at the bar. Annoyed, Jenny pulled his tie and brought his ear down by her mouth. "Let's get out of here."

"Jenny, I…" His answer was cut off by a loud exclamation at the bar.

"Is anyone here with her?" Mike's work friend had tumbled off her barstool. Her dark curls were spreading out on the floor. Jenny bit back a laugh, but Mike rushed over. He scooped up the paralegal in his arms, his face all concern.

"Did she hit her head?" He ran a hand through her dark hair and Jenny fought a stab of annoyance. Sure, he was being his usual good-person-type-self, but she was here too. He was on a date with _her_. "Rachel?" He put a hand on her cheek and Jenny's annoyance grew. "Rachel…can you hear me?"

The girl in his arms giggled. "Hi." She put a hand on his face. "Did you catch me?"

Jenny rolled her eyes, but Mike smiled indulgently down at her. "How's your head?"

"Hurts a little." Her face screwed up with concentration. "S'not so bad, though…" She snuggled closer to Mike. "I'm sleepy."

"Mike, let's go." Jenny heard the impatience in her own voice, but she had seen enough.

"Jenny…" His face was conflicted. "I…I can't. I should get Rachel home."

"Fine." She felt her face go still. "That's fine."

"Jenny…" Mike still hadn't let go of the drunk girl half-splayed on the floor.

"No…no, it's fine." Jenny turned towards the door. "You get her home." She was aware she was causing a scene. She was fighting tears as it was. "I'll see you around."

"Jenny…" She heard his half-hearted protests, but escaped the heat of the bar for the coolness of the night air, tears falling silently down her face.

* * *

><p>Mike helped Rachel out of the cab and over the door to his building. He still felt awkward and kind of weird, bringing her up to his apartment, but he didn't know where she lived and, with her current state of inebriation, she hadn't been been able to tell him. "Come on, Rach." He hauled the mostly unconscious paralegal up the steps and through the door. "Let's get you up to bed."<p>

"Okay." She agreed vacantly. "Bed."

He dragged Rachel towards the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor. Other than Rachel's faint giggling, the ride up was quiet. When they got to his floor, he helped her over to his room. He propped her against the wall as he pulled his key out and unlocked his door. There was a thump as he pulled the door open. Rachel had slid down the wall and was now splayed out on the floor.

"Rach…" He bent down and put her arm over his shoulders. "What did you _drink_?" She was deadweight at his side, doing nothing to help him as he pulled her into the apartment.

"Everything." Was her slurry response. She touched his face with her hand as he deposited her on the couch. "Hello." She giggled. He shook his head in disbelief. Rachel didn't _giggle_. It just wasn't something that happened.

"Hi." He smiled at her and she grinned back, looking so deliriously happy that he wanted to laugh. "You stay there, okay?"

"Okay." She agreed, throwing herself sideways over the couch. She was splayed there like, well, like a drunk person. Which she was. "Where are you going?" She tilted her head and looked up at him from her vantage point on the couch.

"To make a call." He went over to the kitchen, leaving her there. He dialed Jenny's number and put the phone up to his ear. After a few rings, it went to voicemail. He shook his head and tried again. This time, it went straight to voicemail. "Hey, uh, Jenny." He felt awkward and guilty. "I just wanted to say sorry again for how tonight worked out." He ran a hand through his hair, looking over to where Rachel was spread out on the couch. "Rachel's just a friend. I just wanted to help her out." He paused. He probably wasn't helping himself, mentioning Rachel. "So…maybe I could take you out to dinner next week. Anywhere you want to go, just…"

"Mike…" Rachel called over to him.

"Call me back." He said loudly, trying to block out Rachel's voice.

"Mike…" Rachel's voice was plaintive, loud. "I'm cold."

"Sorry, again." Mike close to yelled in the phone, hanging it up. "_What_, Rachel?" He looked over at her, unable to keep his frustration out of his voice. "What is it?"

To his horror, tears started to fill her eyes. He rushed over to the couch, wanting to hit himself. "Rachel, don't cry…come on, don't cry." He put an arm around her, but she continued to sob nosily.

"You…_hate_ me!" She managed to say between tears. "I ruined your date and now you hate me!"

"I don't hate you." He pulled her in closer and she continued to cry into his shoulder. "Rachel, calm down."

She shook her head, but her tears slowly subsided. "Okay." He said cautiously a few moments later. "Do you want to borrow a shirt or something?"

"Okay." She agreed. He left her on the couch and pulled a t-shirt out of his dresser at random. He tossed it to her. She struggled for a few moments and then looked over at him. "Will you…" She paused to hiccup. "will you get my zipper?"

"Um…okay." He felt incredibly uncomfortable. He'd already asked her out. She'd said no. And now she was lying on his couch, asking him to unzip her dress. It was just too much. She looked up at him expectantly and he bent down, pushing her dark hair off of her back and over her shoulder. It was soft. His hands shook just a little as he pulled the zipper down to her lower back. He tried very hard not to notice the large expanse of bare skin under his fingers. "Okay." He looked away. "I'm going to get changed…you should too." He wandered away, back into his bedroom and shut the door.

This was insane. More than insane, this was torture. He liked Rachel…a lot. She might be a little icy sometimes, but under that she was smart and funny and beautiful. He took off his suit and put on a pair of pajama pants and a t-shirt. The fact that she was in his apartment, wearing his clothes, was making him crazy. He couldn't stand it. He was planning on barricading himself in his room all night until her voice reached him. "Mike…"

"Rachel?" He opened his door and peered out cautiously. She was wearing his shirt and sitting on his couch, hugging a pillow. "Are you…good?"

She nodded vigorously, clutching the pillow tighter. "I just…" She looked surprisingly sober, her eyes focused on his. "I wanted to say thanks." She paused and looked away. "For tonight…not leaving me."

He sighed and gave her a tired smile. "We're friends, Rach. That's what friends do."

She bit her lip and he was instantly distracted. "No they don't." Her voice was loopy and playful, but there was an undertow of seriousness. "No one would do that but you."

"Come on." He walked over and pulled her off the couch, putting her arm over his shoulders. She refused to let go of the pillow, so he just let her hold it. "You can have my bed tonight." He pushed open the door with his foot and helped her into his dark bedroom.

Mike picked her up bridal-style and dropped her onto his bed. She looked up at him, a light in her pale eyes. He tried to pull back, but she kept her long arms wrapped determinedly around his neck. "Where are you going?" Her voice was slurred and she smelled like alcohol.

"The couch, Rachel." He tried to pull away. She held him harder. "Rachel…"

"Don't go." Her voice was insistent, close to weepy. "Please, don't go."

"I have to." His resolve was steadily weakening. But, he knew that if he stayed with her, even if nothing happened, their friendship would never be the same. There were some things that, as purely-platonic-friends, you could never come back from. Sleeping in the same bed was one of those things. "Trust me, Rachel."

"I do." She tugged hard and he found himself lying on top of her. She giggled like it was the funniest thing in the entire world. He shushed her and, eventually, she subsided. He moved off of her, fully intending to leave the room, but she caught his hand in hers. "Stay." Her voice was a whisper in the dark room.

"Okay." Sometimes, friendships changed for a reason. Sometimes, all you could do was move forward together. "I'll stay." His bed was small. Generally, he slept alone so it was fine. But, tonight, lying side-by-side with a coworker who he was trying very hard not to touch, his bed seemed tiny. Try as he might, their sides seemed destined to brush against each other. And beside that, drunk Rachel was also apparently cuddly Rachel. She put her head on his chest, snuggling into him like he was the comfiest thing in the world.

"Goodnight, Rachel." Mike intoned quietly. She looked over at him and moved back a little.

"Mike." Her face was merely inches from his. Her alcohol-laced breath washed over him. Then, the distance wasn't there anymore and she was kissing him. For a moment, he kissed her back, her lips soft and languid against his. But after a moment, he drew back. She wasn't in her right mind…and as much as he wanted to kiss her and keep on kissing her, he was a gentleman. And she was drunk.

"Let's go to sleep, Rach." He gathered her closer to him, putting his chin on top of her head and wishing that this moment was real.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Whadidya think? Lemme know and review! The next one should be up in a day or so, depending on my schedule. _


	4. Saturday

_A/N: Yes, it's late. Sue me. (it's okay...Mike will defend me :) ) Anyway...college does this thing called eating your life. So...there's that as an excuse. _

_Disclaimer: Again, not mine. _

* * *

><p>Jenny was staring at her phone. She had just gotten through listening to the message that Mike had left for her…and now she wasn't sure if she felt worse or better than before. Watching him disappear into that cab with the pretty paralegal had made her want to punch him in the face just a little bit. She'd caught a cab just a few minutes afterwards and had regaled the mostly non-english speaking cabbie with the tale of her terrible evening. He's responded with a "hmmm."<p>

She'd gone up to her apartment, alone, and had fallen asleep fully-clothed on top of the sheets. Now, she was awake in the early light of the morning and looking down at her phone. She put it on speakerphone and replayed the message on it.

"Hey, uh, Jenny…" His familiar voice bubbled out of her phone and she threw herself down on the bed, pulling a pillow over her head. "I just wanted to say sorry for how tonight worked out." He sounded sorry too, his voice low and mournful. "Rachel's just a friend." She bit her lip hard at the mention of Rachel. "I just wanted to help her out."

"Shut up, Mike!" Her voice was muffled under the pillow, but no less angry.

"So…maybe I could take you out to dinner some time." He sounded sheepish and reluctant, offering her a consolation prize. "Anywhere you want to go, just call me…"

And then, Rachel's voice. "Mike…" The word was long and drawn out. Where had they been? In the cab still or had he taken her back to his apartment? She didn't even want to know. "Mike…I'm cold." And how had he warmed her up? Jenny let out a long, drawn out sigh.

"I'm sorry…" She heard Mike's voice and she wanted to scream. Of course he was sorry…he was always sorry. Why did he have to be such a good person? Any other guy that she knew would have either left Rachel on the floor or would have brought her home and slept with her. She knew that Mike hadn't done that. He wouldn't…right?

She didn't know anymore. Jenny wasn't the the sort of girl who hung out with lawyers. She wasn't the sort of girl who dated into New York's social elite. Rachel was. Rachel knew the classiest restaurants, the best bars, the best way to talk to everyone. Even though she'd met the girl once and she'd wasted…Jenny could tell. She was one of the super-smart sorts. She was on Mike's level, she fit his new lawyer status. And Jenny didn't.

It hurt to think about. So, she stopped and picked up the phone. It rang twice and then…

"Hello?" A familiar male voice sounded at the other end.

"Hi." She twisted a strand of blond hair through her fingers. "It's Jenny."

"Jenny?" He sounded surprised. "I didn't think you wanted to hear from me after what happened…"

"I miss you, Trevor." She sighed into the phone. "I needed to talk to you."

"I miss you too, Jen." Trevor's voice was heavy with sleep. "So much."

Jenny was silent for a moment, her lower lip trembling. "Look," She said finally. "What you did was wrong. And I know that things between us ended bad, but…" She swallowed. "I just miss you."

"I'm sorry." Trevor's voice cracked. "I know I should have said it a lot sooner, but…"

"Don't." Jenny cut him off. "I have to go now, but I…" She took a breath. "I care about you. A lot."

"I love you, Jenny." He said.

"Goodbye, Trevor." She hung up before she said something dumb and dialed Mike's number. If Mike was allowed to care about a girl that wasn't her…she was allowed to care about Trevor.

* * *

><p>Mike Ross opened his eyes abruptly and for a moment was very, very confused. He was in his bed and…someone else was to. "Jenny?" His voice was husky with sleep. "Is that…" He trailed off as he saw chestnut brown hair spreading over his sheets and the nights of last night came rushing back. "Oh, shit." He muttered. Rachel Zane was pressed against his side, a hand flung over his chest, clad in nothing but under ware and one of his t-shirts.<p>

He attempted to extract himself from his current predicament without waking her. If he could get out of here before she woke up, he could go lie on the couch and pretend that he'd been there the whole time…

No such luck. Her hazel eyes flew open as he ducked under her arm. "Mike?" Her voice was rough and slightly horrified. "Oh, my head…"

"Oh, God…" He put a hand on her back. "Rachel…how do you feel?"

"Like I did in college." She put her hands on either side of her head. "What happened?" She looked down and seemed to realize her current state of undress. "Oh, God…" She looked up at him. "What did we do?" Her voice rose to a shout. "What happened, Mike?"

"Nothing, Rachel!" He slipped away from her and got out of the bed. She pulled the sheets over herself. "You know me…I wouldn't do anything like that."

"Mike…" Her voice was somewhere between contrite and angry. "I don't remember anything from last night. What happened?"

"Uh, you drank an entire bar?" Mike tried unsuccessfully to keep the anger out of his voice.

"Why am I in your apartment?" She looked around. "This is your apartment, right?"

"Yes, Rachel." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "You fell on the floor and couldn't remember where you lived. Does that ring any bells?"

"No bells, please." She collapsed down on the bed and pulled a pillow over her head. "I'm _dying_."

"Shut up." He said, but there was no venom in his voice. "I'm going to take a shower…stay there."

"Uh…" Was her response.

"Right." Mike left her collapsed on the bed.

* * *

><p>Rachel was close to back asleep when the phone rang. "God…" She let out an angry, huffy sound. She reached for the phone without looking to see whose it was or who was calling.<p>

"What?" She threw the word into the phone angrily.

"Mike?" A female voice answered and Rachel cursed inwardly. It must be Jenny…she thought she remembered seeing the blond last night, dressed in orange. "Mike, is that you?"

"Uh, no." Rachel did battle inwardly for a second before deciding what to say. "Wrong number!" She shouted finally, throwing the phone back onto the nightstand as if it were a venomous spider.

A moment later, the phone rang again. Rachel sat on the bed, staring at it. "Stupid Jenny." She muttered. It bothered her immensely that Mike had a girlfriend that was pretty, nice and generally likable. Rachel wasn't pretty…she was beautiful, hard and polished like a diamond. Some people loved it…others didn't. She wasn't nice, she'd never been nice. She was cold and witty and sharp. Jenny was everything that she wasn't, everything that a guy like Mike deserved.

She threw her legs over the side of the bed, intending to get up, when he stomach lurched violently. "Shit!" She shouted and tore off to find a garbage can.

* * *

><p>Mike walked back into his bedroom, dressed in jeans and a shirt, and ran a hand through his still damp hair. "Rachel?" He peered around the door. She was nowhere in his bed. "Rachel?" He got up, running a hand through his hair.<p>

"You really should invest in some better suits." A musing voice came from his closet.

"Rachel?" He skirted around the bed and looked over at the closet. She was standing there, dressed in one of his white button-up shirts, and examining one of his suits.

"It would help people take you more seriously." She wouldn't look at him.

"Why are you wearing my shirt?" He recognized it as the one he'd worn to work yesterday. He felt weird, having her wearing his clothes.

"Seriously," She still wouldn't look at him, but he saw a blush creeping up her cheek. "What were you thinking when you bought _this_?" She held up a brown suit that he hadn't worn since being hired at Pearson-Harden.

"How are you not hung-over?" He sat down on the edge of his bed. She sighed and set down the suit.

"I am hung-over." She turned to look at him. Her eyes were red and her hair was a mess. She dropped the suit on the floor and sat down beside him, her thigh touching his. "I threw up in your sink…sorry."

"Ah…" He wasn't sure how to respond to that particular bit of news. "Are you okay now?"

"Not really," She lifted a hand to massage her temples. "But, with a little rest and a lot of aspirin, I will be." They sat side-by-side in silence for an uncomfortably long moment. "Look…" Rachel was staring at her bare feet. "About last night…"

"Don't mention it." Mike cut her off awkwardly. Jenny was still in the forefront of his mind.

"No…really." She was still looking at her bare feet as if they were the most interesting thing she'd ever seen. He was sure that they weren't. "I know I give you crap sometime, but…." She looked up and met his eyes. "You're a good guy, Mike."

"Huh." He let out a half-amused sigh. "Thanks. Now if you could just convince Jenny that…"

"Mike." She put a hand on his leg and he looked over at her, his face feeling hot. "You _are_ a good guy. If she doesn't realize that…" She swallowed and he wanted to look away, but couldn't. "Then maybe you should find someone who does."

"Rachel…" His voice was low, tentative. "What are you saying?"

She pulled her hand back, putting it in her lap. "I just…" She bit her lip, something that he found supremely distracting. "Nothing." She looked back at her feet.

"Come on." He put a hand on her arm. "I asked you out, Rachel." He paused and she didn't move. "You said no."

"I wasn't talking about me!" She sprang off the bed, blushing fiercely. "I…oh, God." She ran away from him, her hand clamped over her mouth. A moments later, he heard retching sounds coming from his bathroom.

"God." He muttered, pushing the door open. The paralegal was crouched by his toilet, her head in her hands. "Rachel…" He put a hand on her shoulder. "You okay?"

"Good news." She looked at him and wiped her mouth.

"And what would that be?" He sat on the floor beside her and pushed her hair back behind her ear.

"I didn't throw up in the sink this time." She hiccuped weakly, wiping sweat off her forehead.

He couldn't help but laugh. "That is good news." He put a careful hand on her shoulder.

She nodded her agreement, leaning into him a little. Their eyes met. Even with messy hair, bloodshot eyes and a maybe-puke-stained shirt…Rachel was still beautiful. She gave him a sad, regretful sort of smile. "Jenny's quite a lucky girl."

"I…" He didn't know what to say. "Rachel…"

"You should go." She blinked once or twice, breaking their eye contact. "You've got to see you grandma, remember?"

"That can wait, Rachel." He wrapped a hand around her wrist. He could feel her pulse, quick and flighty like the heartbeat of a sparrow, against his fingers. "We need to talk about this."

"About what, Mike?" Her pulse sped up under his hand. "There's nothing to talk about."

"You kissed me." He said it badly, threw it at her like an accusation.

"I though you said nothing happened!" She pulled her hand away from his and massaged her wrist like his touch had burned her. "I thought you said you weren't that for of guy, Mike."

"_You_ kissed me." Mike got up and started pacing around the tiny bathroom, going into lawyer-mode. "I stopped it, Rachel. If I hadn't…"

"Don't do this, Mike." She realized what was happening and stood up too, swaying a little. "Just…don't."

"Why do you keep doing this, Rachel?" He couldn't let himself back down. He'd done that once before, at the mock trial, but this was different. This was just Rachel and him. It mattered on a whole different level. "As soon as something happens between us…"

"Nothing happened between us!" She took a step towards him. "Nothing that matters, anyway."

"You know I'm right, Rachel." He tilted his head and looked at her. "Why can't you just admit it for once?"

"Because I was drunk!" She stormed out of the bathroom, but he followed, cornering her in the kitchen.

"There's something between us and you know it." He was tired of waiting for her to get over what was stopping her from being with him. "So stop denying it."

"I'm leaving." She slipped past him and gathered up her dress and her purse from the couch.

"Don't do this again." He grabbed her shoulder, but she shrugged him off. "Rachel!" He protested as she left his apartment, but when he ran after her, all he saw was a pair of elevator doors sliding shut.

* * *

><p>Rachel changed back into her black dress in the elevator. She stowed Mike's shirt in her bag after rejecting the idea of throwing it away. She called a cab and, knowing she must look like hell, leaned against the doorway of Mike's building.<p>

Why did he have to be so nice and so polite? Any other guy would have left her in that bar to fend for herself. But, he wasn't like other guys. He was charming and sweet and he genuinely cared about her well being.

The cab, banana yellow in the midmorning light, pulled up to the building. Rachel ducked in, giving the cabbie her address. Her head pounded as they made their way through the traffic. Halfway home, her phone started ringing. It was her mother. She picked up on the third ring.

"Mom?" She said tentatively. She remembered her mother's face from somewhere in her alcoholic adventures last night.

"Rachel!" She flinched at her mother's loud and reprimanding voice. "I know you're an adult, but _really_." She made a tsk-ing sound. "You really shouldn't drink so much."

"I got drunk?" She feigned innocence. "I don't really remember, Mom."

"Sweetheart, I know being single is tough." Her voice was sympathetic. "But drinking yourself to death won't do anything."

"Mom!" Her head pounded as she let out an exclamation. "I haven't been drunk in months."

"Except last night." Her mother pointed out. "So…" There was a pause. "What's his name?"

"Whose name?" She ignored the blush on her cheeks.

"I've only seen you get _that_ drunk when you're heartbroken, sweetie." Her mother's voice was gentle, not demanding. "Your father agrees…there must be a boy involved."

"Well, you're wrong." She looked down at the bag by her feet, the one with Mike's shirt in it. "No boy this time."

"It's fine that you don't want to tell us, Rachel." Rachel kicked the bag under the seat, not wanting to think about it. "Just…don't let it get too far. I can't stand seeing my only daughter become an alcoholic."

"Bye, Mom." Rachel hung up without waiting for a goodbye in return. All she wanted was to go somewhere dark and quiet, namely her apartment, and sleep for the next five years or so.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Not my favorite chapter...but the next one is. So, state tuned folks! And also review. I love reviews. _


	5. Monday

_A/N: So...for everybody who has PM'd me or reviewed and I haven't responded...I sincerely apologize. This story's more popular than I thought it'd be and that's totally awesome, but it does require a little effort to keep up with. I will respond to all of you! Maybe. But, anyways...here's a new chapter. _

_And no, I didn't skip Sunday by accident. I did it quite deliberately. Sunday is a rest day. I couldn't come up with any action that might happen on a sunday and...therefore...no Sunday chapter. _

_Disclaimer: Nope. _

* * *

><p>Monday arrived too soon for Harvey Spektor. Sure, he loved his job and he excelled at it, but that didn't mean that he didn't enjoy a little Harvey-time every now and then. Or, in the case of this weekend, a little Harvey-and-that-red-head-from-the-bar-time. It had been <em>great<em>.

"Harvey!" Speaking of great, Jessica Pearson was walking past his office. She called his name and didn't slow down, expecting him to follow. He did, of course. "Good weekend?" She asked without looking back at him.

"Yeah, actually there was this redheaded girl who…" He started off with the tales of his conquests, like he usually did.

"I don't care, Harvey." She cut him off, like she usually did. "Now," She stopped walking and turned to look at him. He almost ran into her. "I need your help with a…personal matter."

"Which of your ex-spouses is being sued this time?" He quipped at her, but didn't move.

"Nothing like that this time." She turned away and continued her rapid stride down the hallways. Unable to overtake her, he was forced to walk behind her instead of alongside.

"Well, what is it then?" He pushed an associate out of the way and finally caught up with her rapid strides.

"There's a charity event tomorrow." She ushered him into her office, pulling the glass door shut behind her. "A black-tie thing…the firm needs to be represented and since you're a senior partner now…"

"You want me to be your date?" Harvey raised an eyebrow. "Well this is awfully forward Jessica and I don't know if…"

"Quit being an ass and say yes." She collapsed into the chair behind her desk. The air conditioning still wasn't working and she had no fans in her office. He didn't answer for a moment and she fanned herself with a hand. "Well?"

"Fine." He pulled at his sleeves, suddenly feeling like a first-year again. "Pick you up at eight?"

"Eight thirty." A ghost of a smile turned the corners of her mouth. He nodded at her and got up from his chair, ready to retreat to the wall of fans in his office. "Oh, and Harvey?" He paused a step from the door and looked over his shoulder.

"Yes?" He drew out the word.

"Don't be late." She gave him a saucy smile and he continued out the door, shaking his head.

"Harvey!" Mike Ross appeared a few feet from Jessica's office and immediately fell into step beside him. "There you are! How was your weekend?"

He cleared his throat. "Well, there was this redheaded girl…" He began.

"Look, that's awesome, but can we talk about my law problem?" Mike was bouncing on his heels. Harvey glanced over at him. He looked like a wreck. There were dark circles under his hair ad his hair and suit were both more rumpled than usual.

"What happened to you?" Harvey raised an eyebrow. "You look like hell."

"Rough weekend." Mike ran a hand through his hair. "But, never mind that Harvey, I need help with a lawyer thing."

"Is it a lawyer thing you should already know how to do?" Harvey raised an eyebrow. "Like filing a patent? Because if it is, then I'm not helping you."

"Harvey…" He whined and Harvey cut him off.

"Hey, you knew the deal when you took this job." He pulled at his collar. The heat was starting to get to him. "Go ask that pretty paralegal of yours, what's her name? Rachel, right?"

Mike let out a huffy sound. "I'm not asking Rachel."

Harvey bit back a laugh. So they were having their first fight, were they? "Well, if you're not going to ask her, then figure it out yourself."

"Fine." Mike answered him short and stalked off.

"What's he done now?" Donna asked, a half-smile on her face.

"What hasn't he done, Donna?" Harvey stopped to collect his messages from him.

"So, how was your weekend?" Donna handed him a stack of post-its.

Harvey grinned at her. "Well, there was this redheaded girl…"

"Sounds super, but I need a favor." Donna cut him off and Harvey crossed his arms.

"Why does no one want to hear about my weekend?" He asked her.

"They're all pretty predictable, you know." Donna shrugged. "You hooked up with some hot chick, right?"

"Well, yes, but…" Harvey admitted, but Donna was back on her stuff now.

"I need a favor, Harvey." She repeated.

"What?" He asked grudgingly. She rarely asked him for favors.

"I need a week off…my sister's getting married in the Bahamas." Donna looked up at him. "Please?"

"Oh, fine." Harvey waved a hand. "When do you leave?"

"Lunchtime?" She grinned sheepishly. "Today."

"Donna…" Harvey groaned. "A week without you? What will I do?"

"Don't worry." She said, adjusting the things on her desk. "You managed before me. Sort of."

"Did I?" Harvey said with a look.

She straightened up and looked him full in the face. "I wouldn't know, would I?"

"Well," Harvey turned to go to his, thankful full of fans, office. "Have a good week."

"You too." She started to gather up the stuff on her desk. "Keep an eye on Mike and that paralegal for me."

"Bye, Donna." He gave her a crooked smile and retreated to his fan fortress.

* * *

><p>"Pick up pick up pick up…" Mike's eyes were closed as he chanted the refrain against his phone. It stopped ringing and went to voicemail. "Damn." He muttered as the stupid automated voice told him to leave a message after the beep. "Hi." This had to be the tenth message he'd left today…maybe the eleventh, he couldn't remember. And, for him, that was saying something. "It's…ahh…it's Mike again." He swallowed. "I'm sorry, Jenny. I just…call me back, okay? I really am sorry. Okay…bye."<p>

"She not answering?" He opened his eyes at the familiar voice. A pair of slender legs appeared in his line of sight.

He looked up into the familiar face. "Good morning to you too, Donna." He muttered, blinking the tiredness out of his eyes. "And no, she's not."

"Well, what did you do?" Donna sat on the edge of his desk.

"Left her alone at a club to take care of a drunk girl." He put his head on his crossed arms. "It's bad, I know."

"And this drunk girl was who, now?" Donna raised an eyebrow. "Did you know her?"

"Yes, I knew her." Mike snapped. "It was Rachel, Rachel Zane."

"Oh…" Donna smiled knowingly. "I always thought that there was something going on there. Guess that I was right." She sang the last word and Mike glared.

"Why are you sitting on my desk?" He grumbled, lifting his head off his arms.

"To give you this." She slid a piece of paper across the desk. "It's the form that you needed."

"Donna, you're a lifesaver, really." Mike wanted to hug her, but felt like that might get a little weird. He settled with patting her on the shoulder.

"I know that." She crossed her arms. "Now I'm headed to the Bahamas for a week…don't burn down the firm or get Harvey fired."

"I'll try." He looked down at his phone. No missed calls. "Have a good week, then."

She smiled and slipped off his desk. "Try sending her flowers…girls like that, Mike." She patted him on the back and strode off, leaving him a little confused, but grateful. He called a florist and sent Jenny a bouquet of roses and a note that said _I'm sorry, from Mike._

He had just hung up the phone when a stack of paper was dropped unceremoniously on his desk. "Mr. Ross, if I could take your attention away from your personal life for thirty seconds." Rachel Zane was next to his desk, her voice belittling and sharp. "Harvey wants you to proofread there."

"Rachel!" She was standing with her hands on her hips, dark circles visible under her eyes. "Rachel, we need to talk."

"Why?" She crossed her arms, a defiant expression on her face. "Need to know what sort of flowers to buy your _girlfriend_?"

"Don't be like this." He pled, but she stalked off, her heels clicking loudly. He followed her, ignoring the stares of the other associates. "Rachel!"

"Mike…" She stopped suddenly and turned to look at him, her arms folded tightly, "Leave me _alone_." She continued walking before he could say anything.

He continued doggedly after her, determined. They passed her office and she didn't stop. She continued on to the elevator and, despite the fact that he could feel half of Pearson-Harden watching him, he followed her. The smooth doors slid shut and she turned to face him. "Rachel, I just…"

She turned and looked him, her head tilted to the side. "Save it, okay?" She bit her lip. "I don't need to hear about how happy you and Jenny are."

"Rachel…" He took a step towards her. She stepped back, her back hitting the elevator wall. "This isn't about me and Jenny. This is about me and you. And I just think that we need to…" She cut him off by pressing her lips against his.

For a second, he stood frozen, shook rushing through him. Then, some semblance of thought crept back into his brain and he responded fiercely, pressing her up against the metal wall. The heat didn't seems as bothersome as it had moments before as she deepened the kiss, her mouth warm and soft and full against his. Her hands looped around his neck and ran themselves through his hair. He bit back a moan against her lips and tightened his grip on her, hands sliding down her lower back.

_Ding_! They had reached the first floor. Still entrapped in each other's arms and lips, the doors slid open without Mike noticing.

"Hm." The person standing there let out a sound of disapproval. "Well, I see why none of my research is ever on time."

"Louis!" Rachel broke away, exclaiming as she saw the ill-tempered junior partner standing there. "We…we were just…"

"You know the firm has a policy against PDA in the workplace." Louis got into the elevator. Rachel disentangled herself from Mike and stood on Louis's other side.

"The elevator isn't the workplace…technically." Mike pointed out. He heard Rachel bite back a panicked laugh.

Louis didn't answer right away and a very uncomfortable silence descended in the hot metal box. "Going up?" He said, his eyebrow raised.

"I guess so." Mike looked straight ahead, smoothing the wrinkles Rachel had left in his suit.

"No, I just…" Rachel slipped out of the elevator. "I'll just take the stairs."

"Rachel…" Mike extended a hand towards her.

"I'll see you later, Mike." Rachel darted away, leaving Mike alone for an elevator ride that was much less enjoyable than the last.

* * *

><p>Rachel hung awkwardly in the bottom of the stairwell, putting herself back into some sort of order. She pulled at her skirt and smoothed her hair and tried to come to terms with what had just happened. She couldn't lie, she'd thought about kissing Mike Ross more than she'd care to admit. But, this…now it had really happened…She raised a shaking hand to her lips and shook her head. She'd never had a first kiss with anyone quite like that.<p>

She sat on the bottom step, not quite ready to go and face the heat of Pearson-Harden just yet. Mike was up there…and so was Louis. Why did he have to be the one to find them? She would rather that anyone else, literally anyone else in the entire world, would have found them. But, of course it had to be the only man at Pearson-Harden with a grudge against both her and Mike.

She blushed when she thought of Mike and them got angry at herself for acting like a preteen girl with her first crush. She got up and brushed herself off and started the long hike up the stairs to her office. He had a girlfriend, anyway. A girlfriend who was pretty and perky and blond. Rachel hated perky, pretty blond girls. In high school, they had been the cheerleaders that had made fun of her. In college, there were the sorority girls who always got the cutest guys. Even now, she seemed unable to escape pretty, perky blonds who stole the best guys.

Despite that, Rachel knew that Jenny couldn't be as smart as she was and definitely couldn't be as smart as Mike was. Nobody she had ever met was as smart as Mike was. The things he could do fascinated her. She made her way grudgingly up the last flight of stairs, dreading the reception that would be awaiting her.

She walked through the front doors and made a beeline for her office, not daring to look left or right. The feet between her and her office felt like miles. Every step took a month. Every little sound was magnified fifty times. By the time that she collapsed behind her desk, Rachel felt like she had been running a marathon. There was a note sitting in the middle, written in a cramped handwriting.

_ Meet me for lunch at the sandwich place. -Mike_

She took a deep breath. Part of her didn't want to go…wouldn't it be better if they just left things the way that they were? But the memory of their elevator kiss was just too strong and she spent the hour or so before lunch anxiously pretending to work and checking her phone for the time every few seconds.

The minutes creeped past as the temperature creeped upward. She fanned herself with her hand and typed a few aimless sentences on her computer before promptly deleting them. She ignored the glances of the associates who passed her office and, as soon as her lunch hour began, she fast-walked across the office and into the elevator. As the she got closer to the ground, the temperature got closer to not-boiling.

She made her way across the lobby and out the door, her heels clicking on the polished floor. "Rachel!" A shout stopped her and she looked around. Mike was getting out of the elevator. "Wait up!"

He hurried over and fell into step beside her. They walked out of the door without speaking and, also without speaking, the turned towards the sandwich place. They were a block from the firm when Rachel finally found her voice. "Did you get in trouble with Louis?"

"Nah." Mike rubbed the back of his neck and she found herself watching him intently before looking away, embarrassed. "He told Harvey, I expect." He shrugged. "Harvey's cool…he won't do anything."

There was a long pause. "I'm sorry." Rachel finally blurted. "That was completely inappropriate of me." She felt herself blushing. "I mean, we work together…"

"Rach…" Mike turned and caught her eyes with his. She couldn't move. "Don't apologize. Just…don't."

"Okay." She agreed breathily, leaning in a little.

"What we did…" Mike swallowed and, she might have imagined it, but she thought that her gaze flickered to her lips. "I mean, there's no reason to blow it out of proportion."

She blinked once or twice and leaned in further, moved by a force stronger than her will. "No reason to…get all hot and bothered about it."

"Absolutely." His voice cracked and she smiled. "No reason for that."

"Mike?" She said his name like a question.

"Uh…" He swallowed again, his eyes flicking all over her face. "Yeah?"

She leaned up the few inches between them and pressed her lips to his. He responded more quickly this time, his lips pressing insistently on hers, demanding more. She twined her hands around his neck and he pressed a hand on her lower back, the other exploring her long hair.

"Hey!" A voice interrupted them and Rachel let go of Mike, her hands returning to her sides. His lips she surrendered last, running her tongue along her own as she looked towards the source of their distraction. An old man was frowning at them. "This is a public street!"

He waddled away without giving them time to answer him. Mike turned on Rachel. "We need to stop doing that!" He re-tightened his tie, not looking at her.

"I'm sorry." She told him miserably. "I really am."

"Don't…" He turned back to her as quickly as he had turned away, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Never…" He struggled to find the right words for a moment. "Rachel…" He brushed a piece of hair put of her face, his fingers grazing her cheek. "I…I need to figure this out."

She shook her head, but did not speak. And, on that very public street corner, he took her in his arms and hugged her close to him. "It'll all be fine." He whispered in her ear.

Rachel wasn't sure who he was reassuring, her or himself.

* * *

><p><em>AN: So...there's that. Like I said, one of my most favorite chapters. So, review and all that jazz. _


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